Do You Permit It?
by BookLover223
Summary: Grantaire centric. his thoughts on the revolution and his death. They ask you to believe in a New France that will rise like the sun. You don't ... You won't, can't, believe in their vision. But this, them, your comrades, your brothers this is what you believe in. And you are proud. You are not dying for your country or your cause. You are dying for them, for him, and you are glad


**AN#1) This has been in drafts on my phone since I saw the movie in December. The cut lines of "Drink With Me" royally annoyed me and this happened.**

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Do You Permit It?

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Drink with me To days gone by Can it be You fear to die? Will the world remember you When you fall? Could it be your death Means nothing at all? Is your life just one more lie?

~Grantaire

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You don't belong here. Not here as in the cafe (as a career drunk the being in the cafe is a right not a privilege) not here as in with them (they are your friends no matter how drunk you are and how sober they are). It's just that you can't live with their dream. You hear them, mainly Enjolras, speaking of a glorious revolution and a new republic. Liberty, equality, brotherhood; they use these words in an attempt trap you, to ensnare you into their vision. They fail.

You are not the smartest but you know what will happen if you, if all of you fight. You can see it every time you close your eyes. _Death, blood, destruction._ You have learned from history; even if you survive the barricade the new nation will not. After one particularly bad dream filled with _~destruction, there is a burning smell and everything hurts, you can't breathe, a chair comes flying, you run hard and far but always end up in the same place, you hear a small noise and there he is reaching towards you, dying eyes questioning why and how this had happened. You go to him and~ _you wake. The image of blond curls stained in red will not leave you. The bottle becomes your new best friend; your old one is now too focused on his revolution to notice your declining sanity beyond a harsh word or comment. (A quick glance, "Grantaire put the bottle down!" and suddenly back to planning. "Do we have the guns we need?") But unlike him, the bottle will not judge.

They, he, ask you to believe in the revolution, in a New France that will rise like the sun but you don't. You can't. You try to tell them what will come but you are branded a drunk and a liar. Eventually you drop the sincerity and act the part of the bumbling drunk. Suddenly you are a brother again and that is all that matters.

_"I am one of them"_

All too soon the barricades rise. You see your dreams (nightmares) come to life before your eyes and you know that there isn't enough alcohol in France to get rid of the images from your dreams. That first (and last, though you don't know that yet) night you are amazed by how many of you are still alive. You begin to miss the innocence of your comrades, the boys who refused to acknowledge the bloody side of battle are gone leaving scared men in their wake. You begin to talk about old times and let them take over from there, their gentle laughter lighting the dark night. _He_ looks at you and you can no longer read his eyes. When it becomes too much you retreat inside with a bottle you hid for this exact purpose. Soon you drink enough to pass out in a glorious haze. (The only thing glorious about this revolution). When you wake it is to the screams of your friends and the sound of gunshots. When you leave the room you find _Him_ standing back to the wall proudly facing his death. You have a sudden desire to join him, to reclaim your place by his side.

_"Please, I am one of them"_

He looks at you with shock in his eyes but says nothing. A quick side-step ensures that there is a place for you next to him. You won't, can't, believe in their vision. But this, them, your comrades, your brothers this is what you believe in. And you are proud.

_"Long live the republic"_

You are not dying for your country or your cause. You are dying for them, for him, and you are glad.

_"Finish us off in one blow"_

As you meet his eyes to say your final words, ask of him one final favor, you realize that you are at peace with your decision. This is worthy death, a death worth dying …

_"Do you permit it?"_

… even if you have to do it sober.

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**AN#2) Sorry for any grammar/ spelling errors. After finals I didn't check this through as well as I should have. **

**How do you (if anyone is reading this) like the placing of the last line. I originally had it before "Do You Permit It?" but moved it last second.**

**Also, should I be cross-posting this in books? I've seen others do that but I wasn't sure if I should . . . **

**Thanks for reading!**


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